


Memories of a Blue Dress

by Genie60



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Blue dress, Children, F/M, Family, Memories, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genie60/pseuds/Genie60
Summary: Clowance Poldark goes snooping and finds something special.





	Memories of a Blue Dress

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing--this is all Winston and Debbie's fault.

Clowance Poldark was in need of a new quill.  Hers had just snapped and since her mother was busy elsewhere, took it upon herself to find what she needed. Both she and her brother had been told that their father’s library was not to be played in when he was not home.  However, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Taking one last look at the hallway checking to make sure that no one was in the area to catch her, she slowly opened the door and peeked around the room.  Seeing it was empty, she tiptoed in but did not close the door in case it made a noise.  The strawberry blonde daughter of Ross and Demelza Poldark had her father’s stubborn will and her mother’s feisty nature.  The combination made her a handful but she was clearly the apple of her father’s eye and could wrap him around her finger with just the slightest smile.  A trait inherited from her mother, no doubt. 

Walking towards the desk, she saw several quills sitting idly in the holder and took one.  She was ready to make a hasty exit when she decided to investigate just a little while longer.  This room always intrigued Jeremy and her, mainly because they were not allowed in it.  Of course, there were times when their father had entertained them while their mother was busy with some chore or task.  Those were the times Clowance loved best.  When Ross would sit her on his knee and regale her with tales of mining and the Americas making even the most mundane detail seem like a great adventure.  She thought of that now as she made her way around the desk to the window, her hands gingerly touching the maps and parchments on the ledge.  Feeling that she’d overstayed her welcome, she was about to turn and leave when the mysterious box called her attention.  Of course, she’d seen it over the years but never dared to open it.  It always seemed like a treasure chest to her child’s mind. But today she felt emboldened and curiosity got the better of her.  She put the quill down and lifted the heavy wooden lid. 

She expected to find exciting things like jewels or silver or even copper. Instead, she found linens and books.  Moving them aside she dug further down and there found something that caught the light that filtered through the window.  Reaching down, Clowance tugged until it came into view where she saw it was a dress.  She pulled it out of the box and held it up.  It was not one she’d seen before so perhaps it wasn’t her mother’s. And the color was not one she was familiar with either.  Neither blue nor green but more a combination of the two which resembled the sea.  As she moved it, it rustled, making noises she’d also never heard coming from any clothing she’d worn.  The temptation to slip it on was great and so with a quick look behind her, she stepped into it, bringing it up over her skirt and blouse. She slipped her arms through the sleeves and found that it was too big.  She wished there was a mirror in this room so she could see what it looked like on.  Unfortunately the sunlight was a hindrance to even using the window to see a reflection but she still tried that tactic.  Clowance moved a few feet to her right and stood by the window behind her father’s desk, gazing out at the land of Nampara. Her hands smoothed the skirt, then she reached around to try and tie the lacing but didn’t have much luck. She was about to give up when she heard the door creak.

“Demelza?”

Clowance turned and saw her father standing there, hat and riding crop in hand as he had just come from the mine.  She smiled sheepishly as she searched her father’s face waiting for the scolding she knew would be coming.  His scar that she was told he got in the American war was now barely visible. His brown eyes shone brightly but without a hint of anger; his dark curly hair just recently started to show signs of white which made him even more distinguished in her eyes.  Taking a breath she began to explain.

“Papa, I was just looking for a quill and…” she stammered.

“And you thought you’d find one in my father’s old chest?  I see.  And did you find one?”

Ross Poldark entered the room, dropping his things in a chair then came to stand in front of his teenage daughter.

“Well yes.  I know I am not supposed to be in here but Mama wasn’t around to ask and so I just thought I could look myself. Please don’t be cross with me,” she said as her chin started to quiver.

Her father looked down at her and was transported back to another time, another room, another face but still the same dress.  Thoughts of Demelza, crying after he yelled at her came flooding back along with everything that happened after that. The kiss.  His pushing her away out of some sense of duty.  Her taking matters into her own hands and coming to his room, offering herself to him out of love because she knew he needed her and because she wanted him. The lie she told about not being able to unfasten the dress and his believing that because he wanted to. And because he wanted her just the same.  Then the next day, when she left his bed and he suddenly felt more alone than ever.  Followed by a visit from Elizabeth and realizing that the disheveled urchin he rescued was the now the woman who filled his mind and after the previous night, his soul.  His eyes became moist at the memories.

“I’m not cross my love,” he said.

“Then why do you look so upset?” she asked.

Ross took her by the hand and sat with her on the window seat.

“I’m not upset either.  I’m just remembering the last time I saw someone wear that dress.  It was a night that changed everything.”

Now Clowance was even more curious as to what this dress meant to her father. She had not seen him this emotional since Isabella came down with scarlet fever and Uncle Dwight thought she might not survive.  Her father held her hand then touched her cheek, brushing tendrils of her wild hair out of the way so he could feel her skin.

“When was that Papa? Was it when you were my age and your mother wore it?”

Her questions came out softly, not wanting to upset him to where he wouldn’t answer.

“No.  My mother was long dead by the time I was your age.  No someone else wore this dress a long time ago that did make me angry but I was wrong to be so.  For if they had not and if they didn’t show me the error of my ways, you and your siblings might not be here.”

His voice got low as he finished making Clowance pay particular attention to what he was saying.  She was still confused because she didn’t know who he was talking about.

“Who wore it Papa?  Is it someone I know? Another Poldark?”

Her voice was animated now excited that she might be let in on some dark family secret.  Clowance was nothing if not dramatic.

“Yes it’s someone you know,” he answered simply.

“Who?”

“It was me,” said a soft voice.

Father and daughter looked up to see their wife and mother standing in the doorway. Demelza Poldark, her hair still as red as a flame, walked towards them, a smile on her face.

“You mama? Really?  This dress fit you?”

Clowance stood up and twirled showing her parents how it fell on her. They both exchanged glances, their minds sending them back to that night in May.

“Yes it did.  I was only slightly older than you but it seems you have inherited my knack for being nosy and poking around where you don’t belong.  Your father may not be cross with you but I am.  Haven’t you got lessons to finish?  You insisted that if we didn’t send you away to school you’d keep up with the others.  Well, it seems that your English is not quite where it should be. So stop fossicking around in here and go back to that.”

Demelza sounded firmer than she intended but wanted to make a point considering her husband was not the disciplinarian the children needed at times.  Clowance was making a quick exit when her mother called her back.

“Leave the dress here.  I’ll put it away,” Demelza said. 

Ross sat behind her, fighting the urge to laugh when he saw his daughter push the dress off and hand it to her mother.

“I’m sorry.  I won’t go into things that aren’t mine again,” she said.

She walked to the door when her father piped up.

“Clowance? You forgot your quill,” he said holding it out for her.

She walked back to him and took the writing instrument from his hand giving him a kiss on the cheek as an apology.  Demelza knew what her daughter was doing and was impressed that she was so good at working Ross the way she did.  She’d be a heartbreaker, that was clear.  As Clowance passed her mother she reached up and gave her a kiss as well.

“I am sorry mama, “ she whispered.  Then when she pulled back she added, “I bet you looked beautiful in it.”

Demelza gazed down at her daughter and kissed her back.  The love she had for this child was endless despite their differences.  Clowance was such a reminder of Demelza when she had first come to Nampara it was hard to stay mad at her for long.

“Thank you.  Now go before I remember that I should punish you.”

The girl smiled and skipped out of the room, twirling the quill in her fingers.  Ross came to stand next to Demelza, watching their daughter leave as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

“She’s becoming more like you every day, Demelza,” he said.

“Me? I’d say she’s more like you.  Doing things, not thinking of the consequences then charming people into forgiveness,” she retorted.

“You make me sound like a master of manipulation. Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me that night claiming you couldn’t get out of this dress? When we both know it was a lie,” he responded.

“I refuse to answer that.  I didn’t lie. I just said it unfastened down the back,” she said coyly.

“Yes. Then presented that back to me.”

They challenged each other now to see who would take blame or credit for that night.

“I did,” she said moving closer to him.

“I’m glad you did,” he said, pulling her towards him so he could kiss her.

“You say that now. I’m not so sure you were that night.”

Demelza returned the kiss, a low moan escaping her lips.  After years of marriage and five children, they still acted like the lovers they were that first night.

“I was.  I just couldn’t let you know it,” he said.

“Oh my love, you let me know in other ways,” she teased.

Ross kissed her again, this time weaving his hands into her hair, desire rising quickly between them.

“Ross. It’s not proper to be acting like this here. And now, “ she got out as he continued to make love to her.

“Since when are we proper, Demelza?”

She gave him a bright smile before pulling away. She went to the chest and began to fold the dress up to put it back in its place of honor.

“”What are you doing?” he asked as he came up behind her.

“I’m putting this away before it gets ruined,” she said.

“I always meant to ask you something. Why didn’t you ever wear it again?”

She turned to face him and saw his question was serious. She didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know.  I suppose I thought it wasn’t mine to begin with and that I should just leave it be.  Besides I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about seeing me in it again,” she said.

Ross took the dress back out of the chest and handed it to her.

“Well then, perhaps we can continue this discussion later, in our bedroom.  When the children are abed and you can show me if it still fits.”

His intent was clear as was the mischievous look in his eye.

“Why Captain Poldark do you have illicit intentions?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to struggle with these laces for nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok another fic gremlin visited me at work and this happened. It's quick, it's imperfect and hopefully fluffy. So any errors, omissions or glaring idiocy is due to the fact that I shouldn't be doing this during work.


End file.
